GLORY of the OYSTER

The oysters’ Pearl requires many years to ripen,

long times in darkness, 

constantly irritated by pressure:

to absorb, catalyze and grow.

It hides in the deeps,

having no overt purpose or expression -

as far as it is ever aware.

So it is, with us little critters;

 we can panic and flap, 

with the need to witness, control or prove

with our fix-it, myopic minds;

the need to let go and allow.

We intrinsically know we are surely that same similitude,

in it’s groping, grovelling life

 - within which a numinous treasure unfolds. 

Allowing, 

like a lotus bloom opening,

a dawn rising,

beauty birthing:

apotheosis, to become a tremor on the brink 

of heart’s first awakening…